WFH: Week Eight

I'm sure our local transportaton agency had the best of intentions when they posted these signs, but ... they're rude. [My mode of transportation was my own two feet.]

I've been puzzled by the people I see walking (or biking) through the neighborhood—alone, not another human in sight—wearing masks. Puzzled by (healthy) colleagues struggling to get groceries delivered. Puzzled by people leaving packages, mail, and groceries in the garage for 24 hours or wiping them down with disinfectant. But, I'm over it. If it brings them peace of mind, let it be.

After all, there are still (still!) people who haven't gotten the memo, like the woman I saw during my walk who sneezed ... into her bare hand. [Sigh.] 'Tis the season for springtime allergies ... but sneeze into the crook of your arm. Please.

Everything gets dusted with yellow-green pollen, and here's a major source: oak trees in bloom.

Our first hot days of the season reminded me that I'd intended to make some curtain panels that will fit a particular bare window, to block the sun from baking my upstairs hallway and pumping heat into my office. How many times have I thought about that, and even taken measurements? [Don't ask.] This week, finally, I tackled the job. It was embarassingly easy (and quick).

Ten years ago this week I savored a springtime commute (by bicycle). Oh, how I miss those rides!

One year ago this week I pedaled through the damp redwood forest, despite being somewhat under the weather. That would not happen, now.

One month ago, I was 1.5 pounds heavier. I've settled into a workout routine that's 30 minutes of cardio, plus another ~15 minutes of resistance and floor exercises, four or more times per week. Supplemented with the occasional walk into town (it's still there!) and yard work.

When I made the first batch of this lentil soup a few weeks ago, I opted to keep it vegan. This time, I picked up the bacon it called for ... and that made all the difference.

A highlight for the week was a visit with my chief cycling buddy, spent chatting at a sensible healthy distance outdoors in the garden. We both needed that.

After watching On the Basis of Sex, a snippet of a poem by Mary Oliver echoed in my head:

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

I think (I hope?) my time on the planet has been a net positive, albeit on a much smaller scale.

The week opened with a confirmed 2084 cases of COVID-19 in our county, and closed with 2231 (a 7.1% increase).

WFH: Week Seven

One last, perfect, red camellia of the season.

The time I spent washing windows last Sunday was well invested. Spotted with dirt, I was finding them increasingly dispiriting now that I spend most days gazing at the world through them. [Of course, that also meant it rained on Monday.] Eight down, eight to go. [Or fourteen, if I get ambitious.]

There are more vehicles driving out of the neighborhood. People are getting antsy; I can understand that. This is all starting to feel less like an interlude and more like the next act of the play we call “real life.”

Lots of people are walking, and biking, through the neighborhood. Tempting as it is to ride, I have taken the conservative approach and stayed off the bike. Because, however unlikely a crash might be, I don't need to risk burdening our stressed medical workers. My inner voice would torture me without mercy: “They asked you to do one thing: Stay home. How hard is that?”

My hair is longer than it has been in many years; some of my colleagues have resorted to buzz cuts.  Ten weeks after my last haircut, it's now long enough to be annoying, and just long enough to tie back in a stubby ponytail.

The spring weather was spectacular on the date scheduled for this year's Tierra Bella, which (like so many other cycling events) could not be held.

One year ago this week I visited an unfamiliar part of the state and cycled in a new event, thanks to my regular ride buddy. When I'm comfortable getting back out there on a bike, I wonder how I'll do? [I won't be tackling a metric century, that's for sure.]

Ten years ago this week I biked to Half Moon Bay for lunch, following a route I don't think I have repeated, in full.

Fifty years ago this week marked the debut of Earth Day. Being a somewhat precocious youngster, in addition to whatever activities our school set up for us, I took it upon myself to do more. My parents humored me as I dragged trash out of the then-undeveloped wooded area behind our house. Years later, my coworkers and I would routinely eat outdoors (weather permitting), and it was our habit to leave each site cleaner than we found it. To this day, I am regularly dismayed at the sight of the discarded tires, appliances, and furniture I pass when biking on our back roads. I pick up small stuff, whenever I can—biking, hiking, or just walking around the neighborhood. And big stuff, too—with help! It was fitting to watch Koyaanisqatsi this week; somehow, I'd never seen it (till now).

I took in two more “Best Picture” winners that I'd not seen before, Unforgiven [1992? really?] and The Shape of Water. It was satisfying to see some bad guys get their just deserts; I needed that.

And to close out the week, the star-studded Take Me to the World: A Sondheim 90th Celebration. What a privilege to see so many intimate, emotional performances; more than one artist seemed on the verge of tears at the end of their song. And a beautiful tribute, while the honoree is still here to enjoy it.

The week opened with a confirmed 1903 cases of COVID-19 in our county, and closed with 2084 (a 9.5% increase).